


Russia | Fates Entwined

by Drarrymadhatter



Series: Seven Shades of Summer [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bonfires, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry, Depression, Drarry, Flowers, Garlands, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Jealous Harry, Language of Flowers, M/M, Midsummer, POV Harry Potter, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Rimming, Russian Midsummer Traditions, Skinny Dipping, Snark, Solstice, Summer Solstice, bitter harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24807955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrymadhatter/pseuds/Drarrymadhatter
Summary: Hogwarts is celebrating Midsummer the Russian way and Harry’s miserable and bitter. Everyone seems to be moving on and finding love except him. As the day goes on, he finds himself forced to participate in the festivities with Draco Malfoy as a reluctant companion.
Relationships: Dean Thomas/Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini, Seamus Finnigan/Theodore Nott
Series: Seven Shades of Summer [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788955
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106
Collections: Seven Shades of Drarry





	Russia | Fates Entwined

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Summer anthology](/series/1788955), the second in a series of planned collaborative projects within the [Seven Shades of Drarry](/collections/Seven_Shades_of_Drarry) collective.
> 
> Having been given the prompt of Russia, I focused on Russian traditions for celebrating the Summer Solstice, such as leaping over bonfires, weaving garlands and floating them in water to tell your fortune, and skinny dipping.
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found here on Spotify; one song for each of the seven fics included in the series.
> 
> Accompanying song: “A Soft Place To Fall” by Allison Moorer

The sun was shining down on the castle grounds, bathing the landscape in a shimmering golden hue. All around him, his classmates were laughing, revelling in the sunshine. It made him want to throw up. How could they all be so…okay? 

It’d been just over a year since the war, and the summer holidays were quickly approaching. Returning to Hogwarts for an eighth year had been a surreal experience. If Harry was honest, he’d spent the majority of the year feeling shell shocked and uneasy — how could he not? Everywhere he went, wherever he looked, another memory was dredged up, and although plenty of them were good, they all hurt. In fact, the good ones hurt more than the bad, serving only to remind him of how much he’d lost. 

He knew he wasn’t the only one struggling — he only had to think of how often his dorm-mates woke each other screaming from nightmares to be sure of that. Sometimes, it was Dean and his experience at the hands of the snatchers, or Seamus waking up in a cold sweat, mumbling incoherently about the Carrows. Other times, it was Neville facing down Nagini. The dreams were different for them all, but they bound them together. Whenever he had one, Ron would silently get up and climb into bed beside him, and vice versa. 

However, when his friends began their day, they were soothed by their partners. Ron was always met by Hermione in the common room, where they would link hands and walk together down to breakfast, fussing over each other all the while. Luna quite frequently met Neville outside the portrait hole with a flask of coffee and some toast, and they’d wander off for their daily morning stroll around the lake. Dean would bound down the stairs and wrap himself around Ginny as if she were the only sustenance he needed for the day ahead. Seamus, it seemed, was determined to solve his issues with sex — he’d been dating Theo since the start of the year, and each morning after suffering nightmares saw him rushing off to lose himself in Theo’s body. Everyone, it seemed, had paired off, finding a balm for their trauma and company for their grief. 

That was the difference and the root of Harry’s discontent. They all had someone, and Harry had no one. Not really. Everyone he had had was either paired off with someone else or dead. He knew he was being unfair — of course, his friends deserved love and happiness — but what about him? He felt as if he were destined to be chewed up and spat out repeatedly by the world. 

_And the Depressing Fuck award goes to?_ thought Harry gloomily. He just wanted to be by himself, not in the middle of the castle grounds surrounded by ridiculous amounts of merriment and happiness and loved-up nonsense. _Bitter much?_ He forced a smile onto his face as he made his way over the grass and towards the festivities. It was meant to be a fun day and he’d be _damned_ if he was going to ruin it for everyone else. 

A hand appeared on his shoulder, causing Harry to spin round in surprise.

“Fuck, Seamus! What’re you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?”

“Bit jumpy, aren’t you?” grinned Seamus unapologetically. “How come you’re skulking around?”

“I’m all partied out — there’s only so many of these bloody celebrations I can take, you know? Fucking busybody school governors _._ ”

“Now now,” teased Seamus, “is that any way to...what was it McGonagall said at the start of term? Oh yeah, _uphold traditions and honour diversity by embracing the Breaking Down Barriers Initiative_!” parroted Seamus in a nasal voice before chuckling at the half revolted look upon Harry’s face. “You know me,” shrugged Seamus. “A party’s a party and all that.”

“This isn’t so much a party as a bloody headache,” Harry grumbled with a grimace. In his opinion, whoever came up with the bloody _Initiative_ needed a good punch in the face.

“Oh, come on, it’s for the greater good! Diversity and tolerance and all that jazz.”

“How is jumping over a bonfire for the greater good? It’s not like Voldemort was killed by an endless parade of dodgy festivals!”

“Sounds like you need a drink,” suggested Seamus sympathetically.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s likely with McGonagall parading around the place.”

“Have you tried Blaise? He had some firewhisky the last time I checked.”

“You mean the guy currently checking out Parkinson’s tonsils? I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Your loss, mate!” Seamus gave a farewell wink and wandered off towards one of the many food stalls. 

Harry hunched his shoulders and blew out a harsh breath. He was just so tired of it all, and _Merlin,_ would he kill for some peace and quiet. June, by all accounts, had been a busy month. They had just finished World Environment Day and Shavuot, and next week was the Ratha Yatra procession. Today, however, was Midsummer, and boy, was it a doozer. Anxious for any excuse to bring _the Initiative_ into any aspect of their school lives, McGonagall had allowed the students to vote on which Midsummer celebrations to follow. Since the voting had been opened on a Hogsmeade weekend, many of the votes had been cast drunkenly. Which is why the winning vote was to celebrate Midsummer the Russian way.

So, here he was, standing amidst crowds of students milling about, taking part in different activities and yelling “Veselaya Seredina Leta” to each other. Every time he heard it, Harry couldn’t help but scoff — _why can’t they just say merry Midsummer in English?_ They _were_ in Scotland after all.

Suddenly aware that he’d been standing in one spot frowning at thin air for several minutes, Harry decided to have a wander around. _Ron and Hermione_ _should be around here somewhere_ , he thought as he wound his way through the crowds, scanning the different stalls and activity stations for his friends. 

After a few minutes of searching, Harry caught sight of his best friends at the lakeside, wrapped in each other’s arms, lips pressed together passionately. _Really, I have no idea why I’m so surprised. Why would they bother looking for me when they have each other_ ? Harry didn’t want to be jealous — hell, he wasn’t actually jealous of them being happy — more like, he was jealous of them being happy without _him_. The war had changed things, obviously, but he’d never given any thought to what would happen if they managed to live through it all. Of course, Ron and Hermione would be together, and where did that leave him? 

Feeling suddenly antisocial and stressed, Harry turned on his heel and began striding purposely through the crowd towards the castle.

“Mr Potter!” 

Harry instinctively stopped walking at the sound of McGonagall’s staccato voice and instead found himself turning to face her. She had a pleasure-induced flush to her pale cheeks and was sporting an ornate headdress woven from thistles and myrtle.

“Are you enjoying the Midsummer celebrations, Mr Potter?”

“Yes, Headmistress. Very much so.”

“Ah, I’m glad to hear it. I was worried that you were in the process of leaving. But perhaps, in actual fact, you were hastening towards one of the many activity stalls on offer?”

“Yes, Headmistress.” Harry quickly scanned the stalls and settled on one at random that didn’t look too crowded. “I was going to head to the flower station.”

“To weave your garland? Good idea, Mr Potter. Do tell me how it goes for you.” 

Feeling the weight of her scrutinous gaze, Harry felt he had no choice but to go to the flower stand. _I’ll just hang around for a few minutes and then I can escape back to the tower_ , he decided, adamant that he would endure as little of the inane activities as possible.

* * *

The flower stand was gorgeous. Even in his contrary mood, Harry could appreciate that. Flowers and plants of every colour, shape, size, and scent were arranged in loose bundles around the stall. There were wire and string for weaving and helpful notices informing participants of the names and meanings of each flower. The stall was being manned by a rather plump, dark-haired woman, who was smiling encouragingly at Harry as he arrived. 

“Would you like to weave a garland?” she enquired in an Irish lilt.

“Garland? Can’t I just make a bouquet or something?”

“Oh no, dear,” she advised solemnly. “The tradition specifically requires garlands to be woven from which flowers inspire the weaver.”

“Why? What’s the point?” 

“Well, once you’ve made your garland, you take it to the lake and float it in the water, where it will tell your fortune. If you’re lucky, your fortune will incorporate the meanings of your chosen flowers.”

“Is that right?” mumbled Harry dryly.

“Come now, young man. What do you have to lose?” She handed Harry a large loop of stiff string. “Have a look at the flowers and see if they appeal to you, then weave them onto the string. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Harry blew out a frustrated breath and finally admitted defeat, deciding to just weave the garland. If nothing else, it would pass some time. 

He picked up the string and moved round the stall to the rows of flowers, only to find Malfoy glaring at his own piece of string. Evidently, he had been roped into the process just as much as Harry had. 

“Malfoy,” he greeted, trying to maintain civility in light of the celebrations.

“Potter,” Malfoy gave a curt nod. “I see you’re indulging in the festivities.”

“Well, it _is_ Midsummer, an important time of year and blah blah blah.”

Malfoy huffed a smile at Harry’s obvious lack of interest and peered at a particularly odd-shaped flower with a rather pungent smell.

“What, in the name of Salazar, is that?” demanded Malfoy, a look of revulsion marring his handsome features. Obviously eavesdropping on their conversation, the dark-haired woman came bustling over to offer her expertise.

“Ah, the corpse flower. Beautiful, but rather pungent.” She smiled broadly at Malfoy, her eyes clearly assessing him. “Are you sure that’s a choice you would like in your garland? It’s not a selection that many would make. It has opposing meanings, as it can stand for ill-luck and decay, as well as long life.”

“Not ruddy likely,” snorted Malfoy, “I’ve had as much _ill-luck_ as I can take, thanks.”

Harry twisted his string between his fingers uncomfortably. Malfoy had a point. 

“Just have a look at the cards below each flower, and if you need any help, let me know.” With that, the woman bustled off to the other side of the stall where two younger students were waiting.

Harry shot a bemused look over at Malfoy, who simply shrugged his shoulders in response and began selecting flowers, placing them next to his string. Harry followed suit, and after a while, they both had a large assortment of flowers and were weaving them onto their garlands carefully. It was slow, meticulous work, and Harry found himself absorbed in the task.

“How are you boys getting on?” asked the dark-haired woman as she bustled over to them during a lull. “Interesting choices. May I?” Harry nodded permission, and she carefully lifted his almost finished garland. After a moment, she placed the garland back in front of Harry and lifted Malfoy’s, turning it carefully in her deft fingers. 

“You both have made very similar choices, I must say,” she mused as she handed the garland back to Malfoy.

“How do you figure that?” demanded Harry. “We’ve picked completely different flowers.”

The woman gave a knowing smile and began to explain, pointing to each flower within their garlands in turn. “Thistles, white Roses, and Violets? These symbolise sharing, trust, stability, and being worthy. Now this one,” she said, directing her attention to Malfoy’s, “white Heather, pink Camilla, and Wallflowers, representing good luck, wishes coming true, faithfulness, and longing for someone. You both have very similar sentiments, except for the red Carnations, of course in this one.” She tapped next to Malfoy’s garland with her forefinger and her expression softened. “I hope you find the remedy for your aching heart soon, my boy. Now, finish up and off with you to the lake.” 

Harry watched the woman bumble away and tried to fight the heavy feeling of uneasiness that had settled across his shoulders. They were just flowers, for Merlin’s sake; there was absolutely no need for the mad bint to make them so…personal. He chanced a look over at Malfoy and saw he looked just as Harry felt. Quickly, Harry sheered the straggly ends off the garland, tied the string off, and headed towards the lake. _Now what?_

“This is honestly the longest day ever,” complained Harry, as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension within them. 

“Well duh, Potter. It’s _Midsummer_ ; that’s the literal definition, you know.”

“Piss off, Malfoy,” replied Harry, but there was no heat in the statement and Malfoy merely smirked at him. 

“So, we just throw these in the lake?” 

Harry looked around and caught the attention of a jolly-looking wizard with a rather sunburned nose.

“Made some garlands I see? Well, go on, go on; place them gently into the water. You’ll be able to tell your fortune from how the water receives them.”

“Receives them?” asked Harry dubiously

“Go on, my boy; you’ll see what I mean.”

Obediently, they both knelt at the lakeside and carefully placed the flowers into the water. At first, they merely bobbed in the water pathetically. However, after a few seconds, the garlands began to drift towards one another, the soft petals bumping and brushing against each other the closer and closer they became until they tangled together 

“Oi, your bloody garland is mangling mine!” 

“Is there a way to untangle them?”

“Boys, they are not mangled or tangled or anything else you may want to suggest. They are entwined. Your pasts have been drifting together and so your future will be as the garlands represent.”

“Entwined?” snorted Harry sceptically. “There’s nothing about my life that could possibly entwine with Malfoy’s, I assure you.”

Malfoy shot Harry an affronted look. “You wish, Potter. You wish,” he hissed through his clenched teeth, before striding away from the lake and into the crowd.

* * *

Dusk was beginning to fall, and several low bonfires burned brightly in a broad circle. _Nuts,_ Harry thought, _like there’s any need for a bloody bonfire in the middle of summer._ A hand looped through his arm and he turned to see a serene-looking Luna smiling at him, a rather flushed Neville standing just behind her. 

“Are you going to jump over the bonfire?” she asked dreamily, “we’ve already done it twice!” 

Harry tried not to sigh. “It’s for couples, Luna. Not much point in me bothering, is there?”

Luna stepped closer and whispered softly, “I’m sure if you asked him, he’d say yes.” 

Before Harry could wrap his mind around what she’d said, she had already grabbed Neville’s hand and flounced away into the crowds.

Harry scowled at the bonfires as he watched couple after couple leap across the flames. Ginning, hugging, kissing couples. _Merlin, they reek of happiness_ . A flash of red hair caught his attention and he turned just in time to see Ron and Hermione jump, hands clasped, over one of the fires, clearing the flames easily. As they landed, Ron pulled Hermione to him, swinging her around in a circle as she threw her head back in laughter. _Yeah, great, together forever,_ thought Harry, bitterness seeping from his pores.

“Thinking of throwing yourself into the flames, Scarhead?”

“Go bug someone else, Malfoy,” sighed Harry as he rubbed his temples wearily.

“What are you looking so happy about, anyway?” asked Malfoy with a wry smile. 

“My future as a third wheel.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, his eyes still locked on his friends.

Malfoy snorted a laugh and inclined his head towards Harry. “Same here actually. These days, Pansy and Blaise only have eyes for each other, and most other people tend to treat me like a leper.”

Harry couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at Malfoy’s frank tone. It was a day for harsh truths indeed.

“So, leper that you are, are you going to leap over the flames like everyone else, or are you scared you’ll lose a body part in the process?”

“No one to leap with, Potter, remember?” replied Draco, rolling his eyes at Harry’s attempt at humour.

“It’s a stupid tradition, anyway,” Harry demanded. “I’m surprised half the students haven’t set their robes on fire.” 

Malfoy rolled his eyes in amusement. “You do realise that the teachers put Retardant Charms on the bonfires, otherwise I’m sure they would never have let Longbottom near them.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Harry said with a sigh, suddenly tired of it all. “I think I’m going to head back inside. Much more of this crap and I’ll throw myself into the lake.”

“Dramatic much?” observed Malfoy. “You seem tense. Why not have a soak in the springs over by the greenhouses?”

“The last thing I need is to be sandwiched in a hot spring with groping couples, thanks very much. I’ll catch you later, Malfoy.” Without waiting for a reply, Harry turned and walked off, determined to put as much distance between himself and this day as possible.

* * *

Harry blew out a frustrated breath. Merlin, he wished he could sleep. A quick Tempus revealed it was after midnight, which made sense since Dean’s snores could be heard loud and clear. He rolled onto his back and stared blankly at his bed curtains. His mind was racing a hundred miles per hour and there was so much tension within his body that his muscles felt like they were being pulled taught on a torture rack. Tomorrow would be another day and hopefully bring something new, anything really — if only he could sleep. Of course, the one foolproof method sure to tip him into unconsciousness wasn’t an option. Dean might have been asleep, but Neville and Luna were still sitting on Neville’s bed, whispering in between kisses over some book or another that Luna had brought with her. Harry didn’t know much in life, but he was certain that wanking with Neville and Luna as an audience would be the ultimate bucket of ice water. 

Sure, he could put up a Silencing Charm, but then he would be as well to erect a sign announcing what he was up to. The possibility of heading to the Prefect’s bathroom crossed his mind, but he didn’t have his map, thanks to Ron’s grand plans of shagging Hermione in the Room of Requirement, and he couldn’t be sure the bathroom would be empty. A few tense minutes passed by, where Luna and Neville were becoming more vocal and breathless in their kissing and there was a noticeable reduction in the whispering. _Like fuck am I lying here listening to the two of them shag,_ decided Harry, suddenly feeling pissed off. _They know I’m here! What the hell are they playing at?_

The solution suddenly came to him as he listened to Luna moaning throatily at whatever Neville was doing to her — the hot springs! No one would be out there now, that was for sure. Quite a lot of the students were too scared of the castle grounds to wander around after dark, much to his sudden pleasure. He slipped out of bed and grabbed his cloak, a towel, and a pair of swimming shorts from the top of his trunk, thrusting his feet into his shoes as he headed towards the door. Neville and Luna gave no indication they knew he was even there. 

Ten minutes later, Harry was sneaking across the castle grounds past the greenhouses where the springs had been set up. He managed to avoid Filch easily enough, and with the exception of spotting Seamus wrapped around Theo in an alcove outside the Great Hall, he hadn’t seen any other students out and about. As he skirted around Greenhouse two, he could see the tendrils of steam rising from the springs and hastened his step in anticipation. The sooner he could get in the water, the sooner he could see to some much-deserved stress relief.

The clear waters bubbled and throbbed invitingly as Harry finally reached the row of pools. The stone-lined edges glimmered in the moonlight as the frothing waters washed and rippled over them. His guess that they would be deserted turned out to be accurate, and he blew out a relieved sigh. He’d been worried that a couple or two might have had the same idea he had. He took off the cloak and let it fall in a shimmering heap on the soft grass, toed off his trainers, and began to strip until he was standing naked next to his pile of clothes. He held up his swimming shorts and frowned. Did he actually have to bother with them? There was no one else around, and it would be that much easier to grasp his cock and balls the way he liked if his shorts weren’t in the way. The thought of easy access sent pools of heat to his cock, causing it to fill rapidly, and the decision was made. He threw his shorts on top of his other clothes and stepped into the soothing heat of the nearest spring.

Harry leaned his head against the edge of the spring as he settled himself on the smooth rocks jutting out of the edge of the stone wall lining the pool. It felt heavenly, and he took a deep breath and sighed as the hot water rippled around his body, easing some of the tension he’d been carrying for what felt like _forever_. He stretched his legs out in front of him, letting them float weightlessly for a moment before he lowered them back to the bottom of the pool. He was definitely feeling more relaxed already, but there was one part of his body that needed additional attention. 

Slowly, Harry trailed a hand down his chest, pausing to tweak one of his nipples, causing a moan to rumble at the back of his throat. His fingers trailed lower and lower, teasing the line of dark hair that ran down his navel to meet the nest of curls at the base of his cock.

Teasingly, he trailed his fingers along his length before squeezing the head in his twisting fist. He let his eyes flutter closed, and he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, relishing in the breathy moans that were rising in the air as he began to pump his fist tightly around his cock, stoking the pulsing throb that was building within him. His breaths quickened into harsh puffs, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. _Merlin, so close_. He shifted his other hand to play with his nipples again, rubbing and squeezing each one of the hard nubs as his hand worked his cock relentlessly. 

Somewhere underneath the physical fog, some instinct, a kind of sixth sense, told Harry to open his eyes. The feeling grew, uneasily pulling him out of the moment until, reluctantly, Harry opened his eyes and froze — he wasn’t alone anymore. 

“For Circe’s sake, Potter, don’t stop the show now,” rasped Malfoy, his eyes shining with hunger. 

“Fuck, Malfoy, ever heard of privacy?” He felt like a rabbit in headlights, his fingers still wrapped around his slightly wilting cock. “Fucking perv.”

“I’m not the one wanking in a hot spring where anyone can see,” Malfoy said with a smirk as he slowly untied his robe and kicked off his shoes. “But great minds think alike, I see,” he continued, pulling his t-shirt over his head and dropping it onto the grass. The look in his eyes was purely predatory, and, as he watched Malfoy lower his pyjama bottoms, Harry found himself powerless to resist it. “If I had known, I would have arrived sooner — lent a hand, so to speak.” 

With bated breath, Harry watched him step close to the edge of the pool, the moonlight giving his skin an ethereal glow. _Merlin, when did he get_ so bloody _hot?_ Malfoy’s body was long and lean and utterly perfect. Harry couldn’t stop himself from raking his eyes over every inch of that pale skin and those toned thighs. _Fuck me_ , thought Harry, and let his gaze drop lower to drink in the sight of Malfoy’s cock, rock hard and slick with precum. Absently, he found himself licking his lips as he imagined what it would taste like to have that delicious-looking cock in his mouth.

“Like what you see?”

Harry started and forced his eyes to meet Malfoy’s, his face flushing at Malfoy’s knowing smirk. However, before Harry could voice an answer, Malfoy had slipped into the water and leaned against the edge of the pool, leaving no more than a foot between their naked bodies. 

After a long, tense silence, Harry heard Malfoy groan and looked over to see him watching Harry, his eyes gleaming with pleasure, his arm moving beneath the water. _What the—_

The realisation of what Malfoy was up to under the water slammed into him, awakening a coil of desire in Harry’s chest that he hadn’t been aware existed. _Sweet Merlin!_ The thought of Malfoy jacking off right next to him made Harry’s cock go from half-hard to rock-solid again in seconds. He could feel his breath hitch in his throat and, as if possessed, his hand wrapped itself around his length tightly. He stroked himself slowly at first, anxious that Malfoy not see what he was doing and notice the effect this whole thing was having on him.

After a moment, Harry resigned himself to the absurdity of the situation and closed his eyes, his hand flying over his cock as his balls began to tighten. Just as he was about to tip over the edge, Harry felt a hand wrap around his wrist, stopping his progress. Harry wanted to scream. He’d been so damned close to coming just for him to be interrupted _again_. He opened his eyes and was startled to see Malfoy mere inches away from his face, the moonlight glinting off of his lust-blown eyes. 

“What are you doing?” gasped Harry uncertainly.

“I want to touch you,” Malfoy whispered, his breath ghosting across Harry’s lips deliciously. ”Can I?”

Harry, speechless at just how much those words made him even harder than he was before, just nodded his consent and let his hand fall away from his aching cock.

Malfoy wrapped one hand around Harry’s length, giving a slow squeeze from the base to the tip and back down again, smiling hungrily at Harry’s wanton moan. Unable to help himself, Harry leaned forward and brushed his lips across Draco’s, revelling in their softness, before deepening the kiss, his tongue rubbing deliciously against the inside of his mouth. Feeling suddenly confident, Harry sucked Malfoy’s bottom lip into his mouth and nipped at it with his teeth, as he moved his hand down Draco’s chest to his cock and began sliding the foreskin back and forth.

“Please,” gasped Malfoy, running his tongue along Harry’s neck.

“What? Are you—”

“Fuck me, Potter,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

“Harry.” Malfoy — no, _Draco_ — opened his eyes and looked at Harry, who was feeling more and more confident by the minute. “If I’m going to bury my cock in your arse, you should call me Harry, don’t you think?” 

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco moaned. “I need—” Draco rolled his hips against Harry, their wet cocks sliding against each other deliciously in the warm water.

“Shit,” hissed Harry against Draco’s lips. “I don’t have anything —”

Draco’s eyes widened in comprehension, and Harry watched as Draco summoned his wand, whispering the spells to clean and prep his body.

It wasn’t the same as the real thing, but it would do the trick. It made Harry ache with lust that Draco knew the spells, quickly followed by a jolt of jealous possession. _Who the fuck had he used those spells with?_ Determined to make sure Draco remembered nothing else except the taste of Harry, the feel of Harry’s cock pounding into his arse, Harry growled and flipped Draco round, lifting him up so his upper body was draped over the edge of the pool, exposing his arse. 

“What the—?” Draco’s words cut off as Harry pulled Draco’s arse cheeks apart and licked a hot stripe along his crease. “Oh, bloody hell, Harry. Fuck.”

 _Merlin, the taste of him_ . Harry licked and slurped at Draco’s puckered hole, marvelling at how amazing the act felt. Each keening noise Draco made sent bolts of heat through Harry’s cock, making him want more. Harry firmed his tongue and pushed it into Draco’s arse, fucking the hot muscle repeatedly into Draco’s tight heat. As Draco began to thrust back, Harry felt a white-hot thrill fizzle through him, that Draco would make such noises, writhe the way he was under Harry’s body, pushing his arse back onto Harry’s tongue. Harry pressed a finger into Draco’s rim alongside his tongue, working the hole open as carefully as he could. As he slid a second finger inside and began to scissor, he moved up Draco’s body, pressing wet kisses to his buttocks, spine, shoulders, and neck. _Fuck, the taste of him_ , thought Harry, feeling drunk with lust.

“Potter. H-Harry. Salazar, please.”

“What do you want, Draco?” teased Harry, nipping Draco’s throat. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck me,” begged Draco. “Please, for fuck’s sake, put your cock in me!”

Unable to hold back any longer, Harry pulled his fingers from Draco’s body and lined up his cock with the loosened rim of Draco’s arsehole. As slowly as he could manage, Harry pressed against the muscle, gasping as the head of his cock pushed inside the tight heat. He held still, his body trembling with the need to plunge his cock balls deep, but he held on and waited, allowing Draco’s body to adjust to Harry’s size and girth. 

After a long moment, certainly as long as Harry could stand, he began to rock his hips back and forth, feeling his cock slide further and further inside Draco with each tiny thrust, until finally, his hips were flush against Draco’s quivering arse. 

“More, Harry, I need—”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” soothed Harry hoarsely, running his hands over Draco’s back and finally resting them on his jutting hips. He took a breath and leaned back, pulling his hips with the motion, until he could see the tip of his cock breaching Draco’s hole, before thrusting back again. It was mesmerising, he decided, as he watched his cock slide back and forth inside the quivering arsehole before him. He bit his lip in an attempt to restrain himself from pummelling Draco’s arse relentlessly. _Slow and steady does the trick_.

“Is this ok?” panted Harry, as he repeated the motion. 

“Less talking, more fucking,” growled Draco, quivering with need.

Harry bit back a smile as he picked up the pace, the force of his thrusts rocking Draco’s body almost violently as he begged — no, demanded — Harry to fuck him harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping on skin muffled slightly by the sloshing of the spring waters around them.

Harry didn’t know how much longer he could last with Draco’s delectable arse constricting around his cock like it was. Anxious that he would be the first to finish, he reached around Draco’s body and began stroking the blond’s cock in time with his thrusts, revelling in the increased pitch of Draco’s whines and moans as they mixed with his own. Just as he thought he would give up the pace regardless, Draco threw his head back as he came in several pulses over Harry’s fist, his arse so tight around Harry’s cock that it sent Harry over the edge with him.

After a minute or two, Harry lifted himself off of Draco’s body and slid back against the side of the pool’s edge. 

“Well, fuck,” gasped Harry. “That’s one way to relieve stress.”

“I’ll say,” Draco said with a lazy grin. 

“So, this…whatever it is…is it a one-time thing?” stammered Harry, refusing to meet Draco’s eyes.

“Merlin’s saggy tits, you’re a damned Gryffindor fool, Potter,” demanded Draco, waiting until Harry had met his gaze before continuing. “Did you never wonder why I was around you so much today? I want this, Harry, but if you think I’m going to be your dirty little secret, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m no one’s whore, not even the bloody Saviour’s.”

“Why the hell would I want to hide this?” demanded Harry in confusion. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“No, actually, I don’t,” responded Draco warily. “You were the one who made a point of clarifying that we would never be _entwined_ today, not me.”

“I was hardly going to start laying myself bare in front of all and sundry, especially when the chance of you knocking me back was rather high.”

“Circe, you’re a damned fool, Potter.” Harry frowned as Draco ran his hand over his face in frustration, feeling like he had missed something pivotal. “I feel like I’ve spent my entire time at Hogwarts just circling you, and I could never figure out why until recently.”

“And?” prompted Harry, his heart thudding in his chest.

“No way, Potter. I’ve put myself out there enough. It’s your turn.”

“I don’t know,” mumbled Harry, feeling suddenly unsure.

“Fuck you, you coward.” Draco’s face closed off, all warmth going out of his expression as he began to wade his way towards the shallow end of the pool.

“Wait, please!” gasped Harry, reaching for Draco’s arm and pulling him flush against him. “You want me to make a fool of myself? Fine.” He took a breath and moistened his lips before continuing. “I notice you; I always have. This year especially, when I feel so far away from everyone else, all I want to do is be near you. You walk into a room, and I notice. You’re quiet, and I pick an argument. At night, I think about you snug against my back as we flew away from the Fiendfyre and it leaves me gasping, and raw, and I have absolutely no fucking idea why. Why do I feel like this?” 

Harry tried to blink away the tears filling his eyes. Any minute now, Draco was going to take the piss, and he wasn’t sure he could take it. Not after everything. 

“Potter. _Harry_ , look at me.” Draco’s voice was so soft and tender that Harry couldn’t help but meet his gaze, hope constricting his chest almost painfully. 

“There’s a reason I put pink Camillas and red Carnations in my garland.” At Harry’s blank stare, Draco sighed and continued to explain. “Circe, I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this. Longing for you and my aching heart? I wanted you, and I knew it was impossible. When our garlands entwined, I thought it might be a sign, but then you were an arse, as per usual.” Draco narrowed his eyes warningly. “And if you tell anyone this, I’ll completely deny it and hex you to boot.”

“I’m sorry, Draco. I had no idea.” At Draco’s sceptical grimace, Harry elaborated, “I didn’t. I haven’t been aware of much of anything lately. Since…everything. But you, I’ve always been aware of you, some way or another. Maybe it’s time I took the hint?”

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and hoped to high hell that he didn’t tell him to fuck off. To his surprise and happiness, Draco leaned his forehead against his and smiled. 

“You’re an idiot, Potter,” smiled Draco.

“Hark who’s talking, Malfoy,” grinned Harry, before he leaned down to devour Draco’s mouth. 

Finally, after months of feeling lost in a fog, Harry felt like he’d come home.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Summer anthology](/series/1788955), a series of Drarry fics exploring Summer Solstice traditions from different parts of Europe.
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found [here on Spotify](https://spoti.fi/2TEsvGg); one song for each of the seven fics included in the collection.


End file.
